Snapshots of a Bookworm
by Emiliya Wolfe
Summary: Collection of drabbles about Hermione Granger's journey through life. Mostly revolves around the 1st September.
1. Unleashing the Inner Planner

**Back to School Drabble - "Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, honey"**

 **500 words.**

* * *

Hermione had always been a precocious child. She had started reading at the age of two, and had demanded to write by age four. At age seven, she had read all of the children's books that both of her parents had inherited, plus half of the books meant for teenagers. At age ten, she had already begun imagining her own world, with her own characters, her own book.

Hermione had always been a precocious child. But she hadn't always been a very organised one.

'Hermione, honey?' her mother knocked at the door, pushing it open with her back as she carried a fresh pile of her daughter's clothes.

Hermione looked up.

'Would you mind tidying your room?'

'But I need all of this!' Hermione waved a small arm around her.

Papers were strewn on the floor - drawings of characters, maps of towns and cities and villages and countries, small post its about character backgrounds and, of course, atlases and books on how to make a believable character.

'I know, I know,' Jean Granger said quietly, watching her daughter pore over another large book. 'But chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, honey.'

'Really?' Hermione's eyes widened and she reached for her natural history book, ready to cross reference her mother's facts.

Jean Granger sighed, putting her laundry basket down and crouching next to her daughter.

'Not physically,' she said, stroking Hermione's bushy mane. 'But all of your notes will get lost if you don't put everything in 'll save so much time if you kept all of this in notebooks.''

Secretly, Jean also thought that she would finally be able to vacuum her daughter's room.

'Then I won't be a dinosaur,' Hermione said determinedly. 'Mum, do you have any spare notebooks?

Jean's face broke into a broad grin. 'Of course, honey.'

* * *

Three months later, Jean was half regretting her words. Her daughter's floor was neat, but timetables were pinned to the walls, detailing precisely what Hermione would do with her free time and when. Green notebooks lines one end of the shelves, filled with information about Hermione's maps and plans, and red notebooks were stacked neatly on the other side, filled with her homework for class and everything she wanted to know but didn't. Hermione herself was lying propped up on her bed, reading the Chronicles of Narnia, by C. S. Lewis. The book was so big that Hermione was resting it against the wall as she read.

'Hermione,' she asked hesitantly. 'Would you like to come and have a snack? I baked a fresh batch of flapjacks.'

'What time is it?' Hermione asked, pausing whatever she was reading.

'Quarter to four,' her mother replied, checking her watch.

'No thanks then,' Hermione replied seriously, going back to her book. 'Snack time is at four.'

'You can have a snack now if you like, you know, Hermione,' Jean reminded her gently. 'The world won't end if you deviate from your schedule.'

'No,' Hermione replied, 'but chaos is what killed the dinosaurs.'


	2. Words of Wisdom

**Back to School -** **(quote) 'It always seems impossible until it's done.'**

 **1st September Event - A parent/guardian/sibling seeing someone off.**

 **339 words.**

* * *

'I don't know if I can do this. I'm going to miss you both so much,' a tearful Hermione said to her parents at King's Cross.

'Nonsense, honey,' Jean Granger knelt down to meet her daughter's eye, brushing a strand of stray hair back behind her ear. 'Remember, just yesterday, you were so eager to be gone! I'm sure that with all of this new magic stuff, you'll forget about us in no time.'

Hermione mumbled something incoherently.

'What was that, 'Mione?' Graham asked, putting a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

'What… what if I don't make any friends?' Hermione asked in a small voice, embarrassed to even be asking. She glanced around the platform, but no one had heard her.

'What a ridiculous notion!' Graham replied, waving his arm as if to brush away the bad idea. 'Any person would be lucky to have you as a friend.'

'But no one at my old school liked me,' Hermione went on, her voice trembling. She bravely held back her tears. 'What if everyone thinks I'm a freak?'

'Listen, honey,' Jean said, shaking her head. She had hated the children at the primary school for the damage they had done to her daughter's confidence. If what Professor McGonagall had said was true, then none of the things that happened around Hermione were her fault. 'Sometimes in life, there are things that we have difficulty with. But we just keep having to give it our best. It always seems impossible until it's done.'

Hermione wiped her tears, nodding. Suddenly, she gave her mother a tight hug.

'Thanks mum,' she said. 'I'll miss you.'

'We'll miss you too, honey,' Jean replied, stroking her daughter's bushy mane for the last time until Christmas.

'Remember to write,' Graham reminded his daughter as she boarded the train, helping her with her large trunk. 'Every week.'

'I promise,' Hermione replied.

Jean and Graham stood on the platform, waving, until the Hogwarts Express had disappeared from view. And then they stood there for a little while longer.


	3. New Acquaintances

**Back to School - (character) Susan Bones**

 **1st September Event -** **During the train ride to Hogwarts.**

 **618 words.**

* * *

Hermione made her way through the train, not wanting to ask the upperclassmen if she could sit with them. She may not be socially ept, but she knew that that - at least - was something that was _not done._

But her trunk was heavy, and soon she just knocked at one of the compartments, hoping the person inside would be nice enough to let her in. She was past caring at this point.

The door slid open to reveal a ginger-haired girl with kind brown eyes. Hermione's eyes went to the Hogwarts badge at her breast. There was no specific symbol assigned to it yet. _Good,_ she thought. _She's a first year, like me._ Taking a deep breath, she decided to take the plunge.

'Hello,' she said, holding out her hand. 'I'm Hermione Granger. May I please sit in your carriage?'

'Sure,' the girl replied, frowning a little before shaking Hermione's proffered hand. 'Um… I'm Susan, Susan Bones.' She stepped out of the doorway, gesturing to her fellow occupants. 'This is Ernie MacMillan, Hannah Abbot and Anthony Goldstein.'

Ernie MacMillan held out his hand the same way Hermione had earlier, vigorously shaking her arm as he greeted her. Hannah was blonde, but shy. She gave Hermione a quick smile before her gaze slid to the window. Anthony was also blond, but where Hannah's hair was light and her eyes pale blue, his was dark and his eyes were a golden brown. He gave Hermione a wide grin and patted the seat next to him.

Hermione took it with a smile of thanks, though she didn't know where to go from this initial social greetings. Quickly, she racked her brain for something to say.

'Have any of you read Hogwarts, A History?' she asked, hitting upon a topic idea.

'No,' Susan replied. 'We don't really need to; we all grew up hearing about Hogwarts from our families.'

'Oh,' Hermione said in a small voice, sitting back against her seat.

'Are you a Muggleborn, then?' Ernie asked curiously.

'Yes,' Hermione replied, remembering Professor McGonagall's words. 'I'm the first in my family to go to Hogwarts.'

'Really?' he asked, his eyes glittering. 'What do your parents do for a living?'

'They're dentists,' Hermione replied.

'What's a dentist?'

Susan's question caught Hermione off guard. She was silent for a few seconds. How could someone not know what a dentist was?

'They're… tooth doctors,' she said eventually.

'Oh, and doctors are like Healers,' Ernie said, nodding sagely.

'I guess so?' Hermione said, but it was more of a question. She would need to do more research on the wizarding world to find out if that was the same thing. 'What do all of your parents do?'

'Oh, never mind about us,' Susan waved a hand dismissively. 'It's boring, and besides, there are more interesting topics, like the Sorting. What House do you think Parvati and Padma will be in?'

Hermione assumed that the question was not addressed to her, as she had no idea who these people were. Soon, she gathered that they were twins, but that their personalities were drastically different. As the conversation wore on, Hermione found her concentration slipping. It was all very interesting, but she didn't really know who these people were, and it was hard to remember who they were talking about, as the names came and went. Soon, her eyes were drooping and she fought hard to bite back a yawn. The train was warm and rocking her to sleep.

Suddenly, the compartment door slid open abruptly, to reveal yet another boy with blond hair and a round face that would have been friendly had it not such a morose expression on it.

'Has anyone seen my toad?'


	4. Neville

**Back to School: (character) Neville**

 **1st September Event - meeting a new friend**

 **485 words.**

* * *

'Has anyone seen my toad?' Neville asked mournfully, as though anticipating a negative answer.

Sure enough, everyone in the compartment shook their heads. However, Hermione felt that Neville had pulled on her heartstrings. He looked as lost as she felt, and she felt very lost indeed.

'I'll help,' she offered with a smile.

She made her excuses to the rest of the first years in the compartment, who went back to their conversation about the Sorting and what it could be. Their words were cut off as Hermione closed the compartment door with a snap.

'So,' she said brightly. 'Where should we start?'

'Um…' Neville stuttered, unused to the attention. 'I've done most of the carriages to the left. Should we split up?'

'Nonsense,' Hermione replied. 'I noticed you were a first year too; don't you want to get to know each other?'

'Sure,' Neville replied, brightening visibly.

 _Poor Neville,_ Hermione thought. He seemed to expect the worst, from the little that she had seen of him.

'So,' she said encouragingly, remembering what the other purebloods were chatting about. 'What House do you think you'll be in?'

Neville's face turned even more glum, if possible.

'Hufflepuff, probably,' he said. 'Gran thinks that's where all the duffers end up. My mum and dad were in Gryffindor, but I don't think I'll end up there. I'm not good enough.'

Hermione felt sorry for this poor boy, with his floppy blond hair and baby blue eyes. She wondered if he was so unhappy because of this "Gran" of his.

'I'm sure you'll do well wherever you end up in,' she replied. 'According to _Hogwarts, A History_ , each House prizes some traits over others, but great wizards and witches have come from all of them. Personally, I hope I'll be in Gryffindor, because that sounds the best for my personal growth, but I suppose Ravenclaw would do too. I do like books, but I like magic and adventures more.'

Neville had listened and nodded all through Hermione's tirade. She was quite pleased. Maybe she was getting the hang of this "friends" thing. Honestly, it didn't sound so bad.

'Oh, look, you missed a compartment,' she said, breaking off her next thoughts as Neville bypassed a door.

He looked sheepish.

'I heard that Harry Potter was in there,' he said. 'I don't think I'm ready to face him yet. Would you mind looking for me? I'll pay for you when the sweet lady comes,' he offered, taking out a few silver wizarding coins.

Hermione closed his hand back around his money.

'Of course I will,' she said. 'That's what friends are for!'

'And are we friends?' Neville asked. He sounded dubious, but for the first time Hermione detected a hint of a smile on his face.

'We are,' she said firmly.

Neville didn't quite smile, but his face definitely lifted out of its sad state.

 _It's a start,_ Hermione thought.


	5. The Sorting Hat Is Always Right

**Back to School: (word) Headmaster**

 **1st September - the Sorting Ceremony**

 **728 words.**

* * *

On the 1st September, 1992, Hermione was worried. Very worried. She hadn't seen either Ron or Harry on the train to Hogwarts, or in the carriages the second years were supposed to take instead of the boats, or at the Gryffindor tables. She was almost starting to think she had dreamed the previous year, that Ron and Harry _weren't_ her friends, but had hung out with her out of obligation.

She was drawn out of her thoughts when a hush settled over the Great Hall and the Sorting Hat began its song.

 _Oh hello students, old and young_

 _I've a song that's to be sung_

 _What, did you think that you could pick and choose?_

 _Be quiet and hold your tongue_

Hermione started. She had assumed that the song would be the same as the year before. _Maybe Ron was right, and it spends all year making up the next song._ She missed her friends already.

 _A Sorting Hat I am_

 _So gather 'round, my lambs_

 _For I am the ultimate decider_

 _Don't worry, I have a plan_

 _I normally have a plan too,_ Hermione thought, drawing courage from the Hat's words. She had to have faith in Harry and Ron, that they weren't having adventures without her. Despite her always complaining about getting into trouble, she secretly enjoyed their mishaps. It felt like it drew them together… made them bond. She knew even then that she wouldn't have any friends like them.

 _For the Sorting Hat is never wrong_

 _Whether your turn is short or long_

 _Sit on my stool, put me on_

 _And I'll tell you where you belong_

Hermione looked the length of the Gryffindor table with renewed vigour - there was no sign them here, either. And she knew that neither of them would ever miss the feast on purpose - Harry would be too hungry and Ron… Well, Ron would be too hungry as well, she supposed.

 _In Hufflepuff, you might find your friends_

 _House of healing broken ends_

 _They're fair and true, never led astray_

 _Loyal until the very end_

Hermione disagreed with the Hat. Lovely as the Hufflepuffs were, she didn't think that they would sacrifice themselves for their friends the way Ron had during that chess match. She felt a flutter in her heart just thinking about it. Deep down, there was a real hero in that boy.

 _Or you might belong in Ravenclaw_

 _Whose wit leaves others in awe_

 _Where those possessed with a curious mind_

 _Never leave alone a closed door_

 _We should probably have left that trapdoor closed,_ Hermione thought, suppressing a giggle. Percy hushed her with a glare, and she felt her cheeks colour with embarrassment. Still, it was true. If they hadn't met Fluffy, then everything would have turned out normal last year.

 _What about cunning Slytherin?_

 _Determined and with the toughest skin_

 _If you lack for neither drive nor ambition_

 _Here you'll find your kin_

 _But if everything had been normal, we wouldn't have won the House Cup._ The thought occurred to Hermione as she glanced over at the Slytherin table. That snivelling coward Malfoy was sitting there, his hair perfectly gelled into place, smirking. Hermione gave a smirk herself. Gryffindor had snatched the House Cup right out of their noses.

 _And last but not least, is red and gold_

 _Gryffindor, my owner of old_

 _Here lie the brave and daring_

 _Both the brash and the bold_

A cheer went up from the Gryffindor table, most likely instigated by Fred and George. Hermione whooped and clapped along with the rest of them, but all too soon Professor McGonagall had told them to hush so that the Sorting Hat could finish. Still, Hermione noticed that the headmaster himself was smiling, clapping quietly under the table.

 _So come, step up! I won't bite_

 _A mouth I have, but teeth not quite_

 _I promise if you're good enough_

 _I will make your future bright._

As the first person stepped up to the stool, Hermione thought back to her own sorting. She had desperately wanted to be in Gryffindor, but thought that Ravenclaw would probably suit her better. The Hat had reassured her that she would do well in Gryffindor, but had ultimately left the choice to her. _The Hat is right,_ she thought, a smile on her face. _With my friends, my future is bright. They'll get here eventually._


	6. Crookshanks

Back to School - Buying School Supplies

646 words.

* * *

'Mum, Dad,' Hermione said as they passed in front of Magical Menagerie for the third time that day.

She had only just worked up the courage to ask her parents; she had invented pretexts for going back and forth all morning. This was her last chance; she could tell that her parents were getting antsy.

'Yes, honey?' Jean Granger asked, trying to keep her tone light. Getting school supplies was usually a chore for most parents, and Jean was no exception. The sound of screaming children was reaching the breaking point of her patience.

'Do you think… Because I did well in school… Do you think I could maybe get a pet?' Hermione asked, the words tumbling out haphazardly.

Jean and Graham looked at each other.

'What kind of pet?' Graham asked hesitantly.

'An owl,' Hermione replied promptly, happy that her request hadn't been dismissed out of hand.

Graham visibly paled, but said nothing.

'You'd have to take care of it yourself,' Jean warned as they walked through the door, the bell tinkling as they did so.

'Of course,' Hermione said eagerly. She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. 'I have a list of things I need right here, just in case you said yes, and I've looked up lots of ways to take care of your bird, and what signs to look for in case they need to go to the vet-'

'All right, all right,' Jean interrupted, holding out a hand, but she was smiling. 'I see you've done your research.'

'Well, your mother and I will be waiting at that ice cream parlour over there,' Graham pointed, spying the shop through the window panes. 'You shouldn't be distracted by us when you look for your new pet. You'll be spending a lot of time with them.'

'Thanks, Dad,' Hermione beamed, hugging her father, and then her mother. 'I won't take long.'

Hermione moved through the fairly dark store, past parrots and toads and rats, until she came to the owls. They were all adorable, in her opinion. Of course, none were quite so beautiful as Hedwig, Harry's snowy white owl with amber eyes. As she walked around the display cages, she nearly tripped over something large and furry by her feet.

Looking down, she saw the most gorgeous cat she had ever seen. It purred as it weaved its way in and out of her legs, its coppery fur soft to the touch. It was also the biggest cat Hermione had ever seen. On impulse, she gathered him - she thought he was a him - in her arms. He was heavier than she thought, but he looked at her with eyes as intelligent as a human's. More intelligent, if she counted Crabbe and Goyle.

'He's been here for a while, he has,' the shop owner said, seeing Hermione pause in her search. 'Nobody wants him.'

'Really? I can't see whyever not,' Hermione replied, stroking the cat. 'Poor little thing.'

The shopkeeper coughed, hiding his surprise. 'You can have him, if you'd like. Half price.'

'Oh, I couldn't possibly…' Hermione trailed off, trying to remind herself of her initial objective. Owls were much more practical than cats. She needed one. But one look at the cat's mournful eyes stopped her still.

'Oh please,' the man said, going to the till. 'I've never seen him take a shine like that to anyone who's walked into this shop.'

'Well…' Hermione hesitated, trying to ignore the little voice in her head. She capitulated. 'All right then.'

* * *

Back outside, Hermione arrived just as her parents were finishing up their Sundaes. 'Mum, Dad, meet Crookshanks.'

Jean looked at the cat, sizing him up with a bemused expression. She opened her mouth, but couldn't seem to find the words. In contrast, Graham breathed a huge sigh of relief.

'Oh, thank God. I wasn't sure how we would explain a pet owl to the neighbours.'


	7. Sleep is for the Weak

**Back to School - Quill and Ink Pot**

 **1st September -** **Going to the dormitory, rested and settled after the hectic day.**

 **397 words.**

* * *

Hermione listened to the quiet sounds of her roommates getting ready for bed. Parvati was already nestled between her sheets, brushing her luxurious black hair before she put it back in its customary plait. Lavender was brushing her teeth, or washing her face, from the sounds of water running in the bathroom. It was times like these when Hermione was glad it was only the three of them. Some dormitories had five to six girls, but the Gryffindor third years had plenty of room to spare.

She sighed. She was already exhausted after the train journey and her conversation with Professor McGonagall, but she needed to get her timetable done before the morning. She wouldn't have time to do it any other time.

So she inked her favourite quill, setting the ink pot to the side so as not to knock it over, and began drawing lines for three timetables, neatly writing each day at the top. Once she had finished filling them in, she then compared them so as to know when to set her Time-turner back, and for what time.

By the time she had finished, it was close to one o'clock. Lavender was faintly snoring, whereas Parvati shifted, rustling her sheets a little. A cloud had passed over the moon, leaving only the light of Hermione's small candle, which was burning low. She wished that she could use the little hourglass in her pocket now, to set back the clock and get a full night's sleep, but that would be using her time unfairly. McGonagall had done so much already for her to obtain the Time-turner, she wasn't going to squander the usage.

Sighing, Hermione sprinkled sand on her timetables and set them to dry. Her body was aching for her warm bed and soft pillow, but she hadn't even started her customary revision of the chapter for the next day.

 _Maybe it wouldn't hurt, just once, to not be fully prepared,_ she thought.

She climbed into bed and blew out the candle, smiling as her body melded into the comfy mattress. She allowed her brain to wander, tucking her duvet under her chin, ready for sleep to claim her.

Half an hour later, sleep still hadn't claimed her. With a sigh of frustration, her eyes snapped open.

' _Lumos,_ ' she whispered, pulling her Charms book towards her. She was in for a long night.


	8. Hogwarts, A History

**Back to School - Quill and Ink Pot**

 **1st September -** **Going to the dormitory, rested and settled after the hectic day.**

 **397 words.**

* * *

Hermione listened to the quiet sounds of her roommates getting ready for bed. Parvati was already nestled between her sheets, brushing her luxurious black hair before she put it back in its customary plait. Lavender was brushing her teeth, or washing her face, from the sounds of water running in the bathroom. It was times like these when Hermione was glad it was only the three of them. Some dormitories had five to six girls, but the Gryffindor third years had plenty of room to spare.

She sighed. She was already exhausted after the train journey and her conversation with Professor McGonagall, but she needed to get her timetable done before the morning. She wouldn't have time to do it any other time.

So she inked her favourite quill, setting the ink pot to the side so as not to knock it over, and began drawing lines for three timetables, neatly writing each day at the top. Once she had finished filling them in, she then compared them so as to know when to set her Time-turner back, and for what time.

By the time she had finished, it was close to one o'clock. Lavender was faintly snoring, whereas Parvati shifted, rustling her sheets a little. A cloud had passed over the moon, leaving only the light of Hermione's small candle, which was burning low. She wished that she could use the little hourglass in her pocket now, to set back the clock and get a full night's sleep, but that would be using her time unfairly. McGonagall had done so much already for her to obtain the Time-turner, she wasn't going to squander the usage.

Sighing, Hermione sprinkled sand on her timetables and set them to dry. Her body was aching for her warm bed and soft pillow, but she hadn't even started her customary revision of the chapter for the next day.

 _Maybe it wouldn't hurt, just once, to not be fully prepared,_ she thought.

She climbed into bed and blew out the candle, smiling as her body melded into the comfy mattress. She allowed her brain to wander, tucking her duvet under her chin, ready for sleep to claim her.

Half an hour later, sleep still hadn't claimed her. With a sigh of frustration, her eyes snapped open.

' _Lumos,_ ' she whispered, pulling her Charms book towards her. She was in for a long night.


	9. Persistance

**Back to School -(quote) 'Just because you took longer than others, doesn't mean that you failed.'**

 **Writing Club - Alexander Hamilton: (character) Harry Potter**

 **322 words**

* * *

'I'm useless,' Hermione said quietly, tears coming to her eyes. 'I'm a miserable excuse for a witch.'

It was just the two of them in the Room of Requirement. Harry had been teaching the DA about Patronus charms, but Hermione still hadn't quite managed a corporeal one, despite the fact that several other people already had.

'No, you're not,' Harry replied, feeling sorry for his friend. He knew that nothing would console Hermione except succeeding in the spell. 'Come on, you're never going to manage it if you think like that. What's the happiest thing you can think of? It doesn't have to be a memory, it doesn't have to be what other people think is happiness. Just you.'

Hermione scrunched her face up in concentration, closing her eyes. Her first thought was learning that she was a witch, but that had been tinged with worry about being different to her parents. _It doesn't have to be a memory,_ she reminded herself. Suddenly, it came to her. An image, unbidden, of the house-elves of Hogwarts, dressed in clean clothes and woolly hats, thanking her for having freed them.

It wasn't why she campaigned for their rights, but she couldn't deny that the thought made her feel warm and loved. She felt as though she was ready for the spell.

 _'Expecto Patronum!'_

As Hermione opened her eyes, she gasped in wonder at the silvery otter that flowed around the room. Harry grinned broadly as he watched her reaction, proud that she had managed to adapt.

'Just remember, 'Mione, just because you took longer than others, doesn't mean that you've failed,' he said.

'Harry,' Hermione replied in astonishment. 'When did you get so wise?'

He punched her lightly in the arm and she laughed, committing the moment to memory. After all, she wanted as many happy thoughts as possible when the real Dementors came.


	10. Headmistress

Back to School - (character) Minerva McGonagall

1st September - meeting an old friend

612 words.

* * *

It felt strange, Apparating to Hogwarts' gates and then walking in on foot. Hermione hadn't done it ever since she had applied to be the new History of Magic professor, when Binns decided to take a long overdue retirement. That had been five years ago.

Should I knock? Hermione wondered as she reached the doors of the Entrance Hall. Hogwarts had been like a home for so long that it, too, felt strange. So instead, she gave the door a gentle push and it swung open, welcoming her like an old friend.

It was as though the castle knew what was happening and had come alive. Hermione could feel the magic pulsing through every corridor, the energy making the portraits run from one frame to the other, all jabbering about Hermione's arrival. The suits of armor inclined their heads as she walked past, and when she finally reached the headmistress's office, the gargoyle bowed and moved aside without asking her for the password.

'Thank you,' Hermione said awkwardly, clutching her bag close to her as she walked through the entrance.

Ever since they had gone on the run in what should have been their seventh year, Hermione had found it useful to keep most of her belongings in a bag magically extended to fit all of her things in. Now, as she moved into the castle proper, the bag was proving its use once more.

'Hermione,' Minerva greeted warmly, opening the door before Hermione could knock. At the younger woman's inquisitive look, she explained. 'The castle told me of your coming. It knows that it is soon to have a new mistress.'

'Will you miss it?' Hermione asked as she sat opposite the headmistress's chair out of habit.

'Miss it? Yes. But I believe that I have done all that is asked of me,' Minerva said, proffering her protegee a lemon biscuit and tea. Hermione took both. 'It is time for me to retire, to visit my great nieces and nephews, to relax with a nice book and a vegetable garden. Oh, not far from Hogsmeade, but far enough that I don't have to deal with teenagers day in, day out.'

Hermione laughed. She could hardly imagine her old Transfiguration teacher "settling" anywhere. She was sure that before long, Minerva would be back at her old post. She might not enjoy the responsibility of the position of head of Hogwarts, but she was one of those people born to teach. It was in her blood. And when that day came, Hermione would be sure to have the position ready and waiting for her.

'That sounds nice,' Hermione said instead, sipping at her tea. 'Are you not going to sit?'

'Oh no,' Minerva replied, putting away the box of biscuits. 'I just wanted to make sure that you didn't have any trouble. But I can see that the castle has already accepted you. And now that you know where the tea is, I'll be on my way. You've already got a lot to do. All the schedules need approving, the wards need refining and the house-elves need reminding not to do too much food.' Minerva paused, looking at Hermione fondly. 'Good luck, my dear.'

Before the old woman could set foot out of the door, Hermione hastily put her tea down and leapt to her feet. 'Wait!' she cried.

Before Minerva knew what was happening, Hermione was hugging her.

'Thank you for everything you've done,' she breathed. 'Thank you for putting your faith in me.'

'Oh,' Minerva replied, touched. 'That's quite all right, Hermione.'

And if there was a tear of pride and nostalgia in the corner of Minerva's eye, neither mentioned it.


	11. Reversal

**Back to School - Roll of Parchment**

 **1st September - Eating at the Hogwarts feast**

 **537 words.**

* * *

Hermione took a deep breath. Here she was, back at the beginning. Only this time, she was on the other side. She was at the head of the main table, looking down on some very small eleven-year-olds, waiting nervously to be Sorted. She smiled at them, remembering how the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye had made her at ease.

The older students were already seated at their tables, some looking disinterested, some looking tired, and some talking excitedly of the Sorting. Neville stood before the first years, holding up a roll of parchment with the list of names on it.

Hermione had chosen Neville as her Deputy Head, not because he was her friend, not because he was now Head of Gryffindor, but because he - more than anyone - knew of the trials of high school. Plus, the students looked up to him. He had gained their trust in a way not even Harry could have, were he at the school.

As the children trickled to each of the Houses in turn, Hermione nervously rehearsed her speech in her head. All too soon, it was over, and Neville had tapped the side of his goblet to call for the students' attention.

Hermione stood up.

'As you might have guessed, Professor McGonagall is no longer with us. She has decided to retire, living a quiet life away from all of this madness.'

There was a smattering of laughter, mostly from the Gryffindor table.

'I have been chosen to fill her shoes, and what big shoes they are. Let us not forget that Minerva McGonagall was a defender of Hogwarts, a defender of peace, and most of all, my personal hero.

'When I first stepped into these halls, I was both excited and afraid. Excited, because I was _finally_ going to learn about a little thing called magic, and afraid, because I feared that I wouldn't be accepted. You see, I had read of Muggleborn discrimination, and young though I was, I understood. And I believe that each and every one of you can understand that feeling too.

'So as I step up as the new headmistress of Hogwarts, I would also like to raise a toast to Albus Dumbledore. He was a great wizard, the very finest, and had made Hogwarts a safe place, when all else was lost. Let us not take that safety, the peace of Hogwarts for granted. Let us remember that each House has had good and bad wizards, and that each House is commendable for its traits.

'And in the spirit of Albus Dumbledore, I have but four things to say to you. Nitwit. Oddment. Blubber. Tweak.'

Hermione sat down, breathing heavily as the feast began. The students tore into the food with a gusto that only teenagers could manage.

'Well said, Hermione,' Neville leant over to whisper, as he reached his seat. 'We can't forget about the war, even if things are different now. They might not understand your speech now, but they'll remember it when the time comes.'

Hermione smiled and thanked her friend. Feeling a little hungry herself now that her nerves had settled, she reached for one of the plates the house-elves had recently added to the menu. Bouillabaisse. Her favourite.


End file.
